


Take Good Care of Yourself

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minnesota Wild, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of good reasons for them to be careful with what they have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Good Care of Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the game against the Blues on April 11. Parise’s post game interview linked here is pretty great if you like watching sad worried hockey players avoiding eye contact.  
> http://wild.nhl.com/club/recap.htm?id=2012020603
> 
> The title comes from the song “Button Up Your Overcoat,” which I love a lot. [This version is pretty good.](http://youtu.be/6UliCMEdTFE%E2%80%9D) I’d know, given how I listened to all the different versions I could find while I was writing.
> 
> Betaed by Stellarer, who is awesome. This story would be significantly more terrible if it wasn't for her. She's the best.

Ryan’s still in the trainer's room when Zach finds him. He has his eyes closed, and hadn’t even realized the game was over until he heard the shuffle of footsteps. He opens his eyes to see Zach leaning against the doorjamb, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“So, losing really sucks, doesn’t it?” Ryan says.

Zach’s eyes flick up for just a moment before shifting back to the ground. “Yeah, it does.”

“You were good out there,” Ryan says.

Zach frowns.

“From what I saw you did everything you could.”

“You didn’t see everything.”

No, he didn’t. He missed part of the second and all of the third, and the team lost, and that is not the only thing that hurts. But the game’s over. There’s nothing else they can do tonight.

Ryan is so tired.

He doesn’t want to drive himself home, but they took two cars to the arena. He beats Zach back. The dogs are happy to see him. He watches them run out back and debates the merits of going straight to bed versus preparing and eating a meal to replace the calories he lost during the game. He really wants to sleep but if he doesn’t eat something else he’ll feel even worse in the morning.

He’s still staring out the window when Zach gets home. He hears the other man banging around in the kitchen, but doesn’t go see what’s happening. He’s still waiting for the dogs to want in when Zach slides into the room and curls around Ryan’s back. “There’s food,” Zach says, breath warm against Ryan’s neck.

“You made me dinner?”

“Well, I reheated dinner, which was made by the Kowalski family with much love and care, I’m sure.”

This is actually better than if Zach had cooked himself. He even went to a real swanky grocery store; how sweet. “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

It isn’t, not quite, but it’s warm and filling. It’s the nutritious square meal Ryan needs tonight, and he feels better after eating. He heads to bed after dinner, too tired for anything else. He wants to sleep and let his body heal.

While it might technically be spring, Minnesota seems intent to cling to the winter weather. The house gets cold overnight, so he’s still sleeping in flannel pajama pants and long sleeved t-shirts.

Going back into the bedroom after brushing his teeth, he’s surprised to find Zach already there. Zach tends to buzz around after a game, jittering as he internalizes the blow of defeat or the glow of victory before he can finally crash. Normally he has to _do_ something; wash dishes, fold laundry, make a grocery list; get something done before he’s ready to relax. Not tonight. Tonight Zach is sitting cross legged on the bed in his boxers, with a book propped on his knees.

“It won’t keep you up if I read in here, will it?” Zach asks.

“No, it’s fine.” Ryan can and has slept through most anything: plane rides, loud roommates, thunderstorms, it doesn’t matter. Zach reading quietly won’t make any difference, even if Ryan weren’t almost asleep on his feet.

“Awesome. I kinda like the idea of staying close tonight.”

Ryan likes that too. He’s still getting used to how often they find themselves living through these quiet, domestic, intimate moments. He falls asleep quickly, undisturbed by the bedside lamp, Zach’s body a solid presence beside him radiating warmth.

The heat kicks on strong in the middle of the night. Ryan has spent all winter failing to reset the thermostat, instead living through the whims of the previous owner’s programing. He knows how to shut the heat most of the way off, which is good for road trips, but other than that necessity it’s another piece of technology he doesn’t really understand.

He could get up now, pad barefoot into the living room to turn on the light and press buttons, but that sounds exhausting. It’s easier to pull his shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere away from the bed.

The next time he wakes up it’s barely light out. In the night Zach moved closer, and now their bare skin is stuck together. The alarm clock is buzzing, but Ryan can’t free himself to turn it off, instead he’s stuck shaking Zach awake. Zach groans, but rolls off him, before reaching the far nightstand to make the sound stop.

Zach lies on his side, propped on an elbow to what Ryan intently. “How are you feeling?” Zach asks.

“Alright,” Ryan says, without really thinking about it. After the words are out he evaluates his body, and alright isn’t _too_ far off. He’s achy. He could be better, but it could be worse.

“Do you want me to get you some Advil?” Zach asks.

“Yeah,” Ryan says. That might be good.

Zach gets up, which is a little bit terrible, but he’s back before too long, with water and pills and minty breath, which Ryan discovers when Zach leans in to kiss him.

“Morning sex? Or are you too sore.”

Ryan thinks about it. He really thinks about it. He knows what he wants to say, but he has to be sure he’s listening to his whole body, not just his dick. He stretches. It’s not so bad. “Morning sex, but easy morning sex. Nothing wild.”

“As long as that was unintentional pun,” Zach says.

Ryan has no idea what Zach’s talking about.

Zach smiles at him. “You’re still half asleep, aren’t you?”

Ryan nods. Maybe even two thirds asleep. He really likes the way Zach’s eyes look when he smiles.

“That’s fine, I love you anyway.”

This Ryan does understand. “I love you too.”

“Don’t move,” Zach says.

“I’ll try.”

Ryan stays still as Zach crawls back into bed, first pushing away the covers then pulling at Ryan’s pants. Ryan lifts his hips slightly at Zach’s prompting to get his shorts down his thighs, but after that he stops moving. He holds steady while Zach gets his mouth on Ryan’s cock, and yeah, Ryan doesn’t give one damn about the staying power of Minnesota winters because he gets to wake up to things like this.

It wouldn’t be fair to say that he’s much more capable of processing the world after he’s come, but Zach seems content with the slow kisses and lazy handjob that follows. Ryan wipes his dirty hand off on Zach’s chest so they won’t have to change the sheets. That’s enough to get out of bed to shower.

Ryan watches with his eyes half open as Zach nakedly makes his way towards the bathroom.

“Go back to sleep,” Zach says. “I have to go to skate, but you’re staying home.”

Some part of Ryan wants to protest, say he’s fine, that he can practice, but more of him is sore and still tired. He closes his eyes again. He’s dimly aware of Zach going in and out, getting ready for the day. He’s only halfway back to sleep when he feels the mattress dip. Zach, now dressed to head to the rink, is lying in bed next to him.

They’re sharing a pillow. This close Ryan can focus on the slight crinkles of laugh lines around Zach’s eyes, which are warm and smiling at him. Ryan maybe doesn’t want to look at anything else ever.

“I thought you were going?” Ryan says.

“I am, in a minute. I just wanted to tell you goodbye, yeah?”

Ryan nods sleepily. “Have a good practice, ok? Tell Brods he did good last night.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass it along,” Zach promises. “There’s a protein bar and a bottle of water on the nightstand.”

That’s very considerate. Zach’s a considerate guy. Ryan says, “Thank you,” then closes his eyes again.

**^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v**

He’s all the way awake by the time Zach gets home, he just hasn’t gotten out of bed. Zach sits down next to him. His hair’s still damp from his post practice shower, making it spike up everywhere, which makes Ryan want to reach out and mess it up even further.

“How do you feel?” Zach asks, concerned.

“Fine,” Ryan says. He’s more or less fine. “I’m going to play tomorrow.” That may or may not be an answer.

Zach has to understand that if Ryan _can_ play, he’s going to play; if he doesn’t it will be because of someone else’s decision.

“I know.” Zach’s a hockey player too. “Of course you will, even if you shouldn’t.” Ryan can’t deny it, he would, he might. “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing,” Zach says. “Just—take good care of yourself?”

It’s a simple request.

“Of course.” Ryan can promise that.

“Don’t do it just because it’s hockey,” Zach asks, “Not just because it’s in your best interest to be careful — Do it for me.”

Ryan recognizes that Zach is using his important conversation voice, which doesn’t happen very often. They don’t need to have serious conversations with each other very often. By this point in their relationship they’ve talked through almost all the important things that need talking about. But here they are, in a serious conversation. Ryan will listen very carefully.

“You need to be careful because when you’re hurting that hurts me too.” Ryan can tell his emotions are being manipulated, but suspects it’s for his own good. “I know that sometimes you might not put your own health or comfort first, and that’s fine. Well — not fine exactly, but I understand. I just want you to remember that whatever damage you’re racking up isn’t just yours. Do you know why that is?” Zach asks.

Zach emphasises the question by reaching out to touch Ryan’s arm, which is nice, Ryan wants to lean into it. He wants them to be closer than this, even though they’re only inches apart.

“No, why is it?” Ryan asks, setting up whatever point Zach is trying to make.

“Because I love you,” Zach says.

And this is why Ryan chose to play in Minnesota. Because Zach is a sap, and Ryan is a sap, and he’s reached an age where he wants to be in a relationship where they say sappy things to each other, and that wasn’t what he had in Nashville. That was a lot of intense staring, avoiding conversations, and great sex. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Ryan was ready for a change, and there was Zach saying, I love you, come to Minnesota.

This is what Ryan wanted, but sometimes it’s a lot to take in. He takes a deep breath, then says, “I love you too.”

What Zach is saying goes both ways. Ryan can take care of himself, but he can be careful with Zach too, he can treat their partnership with care. It’s an exchange, a fair trade. They’re kind of stupid about each other—maybe that’s wrong. They’re smart about each other. They’re sharp enough to know what’s important, to choose this, making decisions with their hearts, not just their ambitions or their pocketbooks. So stupid, but it’s working out alright.

Ryan does play the next game, which they lose. They drag it into a shootout though, which gets them a point, which is better than nothing. It's a strange night from the start. Seventeen seconds in, Chuck gets into his first NHL fight over a hit that gets him thrown out of the game. There's another fight before the end of the period, but they score first. Ryan's on for two goals against in the second, but he gets an assist to help tie it up in the third. He plays thirty-one minutes and nineteen seconds.

He gets named the third star of the game, which doesn't really mean anything. He's suspicious that it's partly motivated by people are who are impressed that he's playing hurt. He doesn't care. He wishes they could have won.

But at the end of the night he gets to go home with Zach — they drove together this time. Ryan lets the dogs out while Zach fixes them something to eat. After dinner Zach will read or do something fidgety, and Ryan might go to sleep, or he might stay up just to enjoy Zach's company.

No matter what they're going to end up in the same bed at the end of the night. The thermostat will kick the heat up around three, and Ryan will be too warm in bed, wearing flannel and stuck under the covers with a human furnace. They'll wake up together and probably get off.

Then practice; flying to Calgary; a game against the Flames the day after tomorrow. Hopefully by then Ryan will feel even better than he does now.

They'll keep on trading absent minded and heartfelt "I love you"s as they go through their days. They'll take care of each other.

They take care of each other, and take care of themselves for each other’s sakes. They have a lot of good things in their lives. Ryan knows how they lucky they are — how lucky he is — to be playing hockey with someone he loves in a place that feels like home. He has something beautiful — something to treat with care. Ryan’s going to do the best he can.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s canon that Zach Parise read books! [It’s super cute](http://devils.nhl.com/club/news.htm?id=530161) I think he’s super great <3
> 
> Also Stellarer told me I should include this somewhere. It's a poem I wrote on April 12th, probably around two in the morning. No, I'm not crazy, why do you ask?
> 
> Poem for Ryan Suter
> 
> I want the internet  
> to reassure me  
> with positive speculations  
> about your health


End file.
